


Apples, Whiskey, and the Present

by TheUltimateUndesirable



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adorable Newt Scamander, Awkward Crush, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Newt Scamander, Christmas Fluff, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Demisexual Newt Scamander, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Holidays, Living in Newt Scamander's Suitcase, M/M, Maybe A Little Plot, Newt Thinks To Much, POV Newt Scamander, Pining, Playful Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Shameless Smut, Time Travel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable
Summary: An unexpected and unexplained occurrence has two unexpected people spending the holidays together as they try to figure out what happened. In the meantime Newt's trying to figure out what's happening to himself, and terrified to acknowledge it more than he already has.
Relationships: Newt Scamander/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Hermione’s Nook Kissmas





	Apples, Whiskey, and the Present

**Author's Note:**

> Written for me. By me. If you enjoy it that's a bonus. Actually if you like it go write more of this ship because Im an addict in need of a fix I havent written. 
> 
> Also please ignore the word count that was suppose to be max 5k :) I had no control over them. I mean in the world of endless and infinite numbers two thousand is hardly even a few extra right? Right...yes I'm going with that. 
> 
> Pairing choice: Newt S/Dean W  
> Prompt: Warm kisses
> 
> This has to be the fluffiest shit I've EVER written. I take any other time I've said that back. 
> 
> MAJOR thanks to noxsoulmate for giving me some Supernatural advice, and insight/feedback on Dean since I'm someone who hasn't watched the show since like season 7.

A little bit over a month now he and Dean had been traveling together. Sure it had been uncomfortable and tense at first, but it had finally turned into a much more relaxing arrangement as the weeks wore on. Slowly they were starting to get to know one another, which now Newt wasn’t so sure was a good thing. It was a relief to him regardless seeing, and feeling the calmer version of the American. Apparently Dean had finally deemed him no harm, and he only watched the creatures that shared the space with them curiously, compared to the narrowed eyes he originally had. 

Still at least once a night when they stopped what was proving to be their slow travel, Dean would leave the safety of the suitcase for what he said was patrol. Newt assumed it was also for a calming walk with some fresh air. He could just tell the American wasn’t the kind to take the feeling of being trapped, or limited, lightly. However limited was beyond either of their control for the time being. Plus they were still adjusting to each other's constant presence. Strangers of completely different backgrounds. 

Being from other countries was the easiest to handle, and had been interesting enough for some light hearted communication. It reminded him of the few years he spent with Jacob. Sometimes he missed his friend greatly, but the right thing had been done in the end. Visiting America, and Jacob’s bakery from time to time he at least knew his old friend was happy in life. Queenie and Tina long behind them both. 

Even traveling with Jacob though, he wasn’t used to sharing his suitcase so closely. It had never been for such an extended period of time with him either. They had always gotten hotel rooms, or stayed with people he knew. Dean and he however weren’t traveling through large cities with those opportunities. Then again he wasn’t even sure Dean would have taken the opportunity for a separate room now that he seemed most relaxed when they were alone in their makeshift living space. 

Frankly Newt wasn’t all that much of a social person, making sharing his personal space a bit harder especially at first. Very few people had ever gotten him to such a state of complete relaxation in their presence. Even his brother didn’t provide him the complete comfort where he could come out of his shell. Dean on the other hand had practically kicked his way through the barrier with ease once he had gotten comfortable, and he had basically let him. 

There was also the little issue Dean wasn’t from the current year, which made things all the more confusing for him, or really them. It was an adjustment all it’s very own, but at least it was one he had been mulling more factually the entire time now. They still didn’t know exactly what had happened though. 

While the American had originally thrown quite the fuss upon arrival, and stormed out of the trunk despite his insistence he shouldn’t, it hadn’t taken more than an hour of waiting for him to reconsider his aid. He had been met stiffly with questions and underlying threats, but eventually Dean had given in to his offer clearly uncertain of what else to do. Probably realizing finally where he was wasn’t just some illusion or different town.

The more they had talked about it, the more both of them found the whole situation….interesting to put it on a serious level. Bitterness could still be heard behind Dean’s words on the topic, especially at first. It was incredibly interesting because it was unknown of how he got to this year as a muggle, one that was some ninety years his past. 

Then there was how Dean had arrived. Suddenly popping into his trunk out of thin air as if he had apparated. Newt figured it was more plausible than he would be an American considering he was currently in the United States, indefinitely at this point, but there was the chance someone from his own country could have appeared as well. 

According to Dean he had never personally traveled so far into the past. He also knew of time travel of course, but the time turners he knew of only took you back hours. On the other hand there was no telling what Unspeakables came up with buried within the secret depths of the Ministries, but the odds of the American having run into one was most unlikely. So far his own personal theory was a time leaping creature with connection to one in his case, while Dean theorized and ranted about some supposed angel named Gabe.

Newt couldn’t fault the bloke for his ranting and worry. He seemed to be incredibly protective, and passionate about what he did. About his friends and family. He wasn’t sure now if Dean’s insistence to make sure things were secure around the suitcase outside, despite his continual reassurance that the protective charms and notice me not charm were sufficient, was purely personal habit or genuine concern for them both. Especially with how easily accepting he had been upon the discovery of his being an actual wizard with a wand. 

Again Newt tried to push down some of the nervous energy he felt. His nerves had grown not for fear of being tracked like Dean was surely worrying about underneath, but because the tension he felt between them was starting to become suffocating. Dean either didn’t notice, or he was content to suffer through it.

Still the American wanted to talk to him. Joke and make laughs, especially when he remained quiet for too long. He would sit beside him just like they were doing now before the fire he had built. It was incredibly frigid outside in the north of what Dean had told him was South Dakota this time of year. Finally they were getting closer to their destination. Newt’s only concern needed to be western Montana. Everything else hardly mattered. 

His original journey had been towards western Utah, but upon some research on his end after Dean’s arrival, there was potentially a beast that was rumoured to exist in the state that he could try to find and study. One that could potentially even provide Dean the possibility to return to his time, or closer to it at least, based on legend and the disappearing acts it pulled. The thought of which now caused his stomach to twist. 

Mostly Dean liked to joke about his creatures, which he didn’t mind considering some of the jokes were quite truthful, and entertaining. Sometimes he made references and analogies he didn’t understand. Whether it was because he was a muggle, or from the future he didn’t know. Newt assumed it was a mixture of both. 

When it came to England, himself, and magic in general, Dean was incredibly playful for some reason. He knew a fair bit more than Newt expected, to the point it was almost a bit unsettling. Specifically when he would spit out the occasional real spell or actual thing of existence like thestrals. 

The man would also tease him with personal jabs anytime he went on to explain a cultural phrase or word he didn’t think he would know. He tried to treat it like he would have with Jacob or Tina. Except Dean started hitting something else inside him. Made him smile in a way the other Americans had never been able to, and caused him to laugh lightly along with his sarcasm. It became harder to hide some of the smiles as the whole thing grew to more of a personal nature. 

Newt wiped the sweaty palm of his hand on his trousers. Not often was he exceptionally bold. On a low level Dean actually terrified him. Terrified him not because of his brute strength or the occasional impulsive behavior he showed, but because he was afraid of what would happen if he did or said what he really thought. It was like he kept trying to drag it out of him when he would ask what was wrong or on his mind. The way his throat was constricting at the idea of any admittance, imagining going on even longer with this between them had his want, stubbornly trying to push past his will not do anything. 

“So, what do you think your brother is doing for the holiday?” Newt asked, hoping to change the topic, and find a true distraction to what he was feeling. The bloke had proven what he cared most about was his brother Sam, and with the next day being Christmas he figured it was an easy transition.

Dean sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead resting his elbow on the side of the sofa. “No clue. Probably just sitting around like any other night. Usually I’m the one pushing to celebrate,” he admitted sounding disappointed. “He just never has been big on celebrating things. When he does it’s usually for me.” 

Newt nodded in understanding. He wasn’t a big celebrator himself. Memories of his parents, a few classmates, and his brother trying to make him jump with enthusiasm and share a round of hugs made him internally grimace. 

“I’m quite the same,” Newt confessed. “My older brother tried to force me to celebrate all the holidays and birthdays with him. I’ve just never felt like it feels right. I spent most of my holidays at school…” 

“Maybe it’s just a big brother thing then huh?” Dean managed to grin. They had already been over his school having been a boarding one, another thing the American had oddly seemed familiar with. 

Newt smiled despite himself. “It’s possible.” 

“Why don’t we celebrate? You have enough room in here,” Dean offered what felt like randomly, gesturing around what was their living space. 

It had taken a bit of rearranging and expanding of his study area, but it worked well enough for them to have a decent space. Mostly. Not really as they were still kind of crammed up on one another. Especially when sitting. Like now.

“Oh I really…” Newt started to say dismissively with a small shake of his head. Again he wasn’t really the celebrating sort, and he wasn’t sure what they would do anyways. 

“Come on,” Dean said, getting up off the sofa he had transfigured from his chair. Instantly Newt missed the warmth of his arm around his back. Even though they hadn’t been touching his body had grown hot, and he could still feel the non existent weight on top of his shoulders. 

“What is it you propose we do?” Newt asked him unsure what he even enjoyed or if there were different customs in his time. He didn’t question why he was entertaining the idea upon Dean’s encouragement. Then again he knew why. It obviously made him happy, and he liked seeing him happy with that smile.

“How about you just work your magic,” Dean told him. “...and I will go out and find us some fresh food for dinner.” 

“You don’t have to, I have…” Newt started before he was interrupted. They had stopped at markets a few times now, and there was enough food in his cupboards and small ice box for the both of them.

“You don’t have roast, alcohol, or pie,” Dean said over top of his words, with a pointed look telling him there was no arguing. “We can’t have Christmas without some of the staples.”

Newt looked away again trying not to smile at his insistence. He enjoyed when Dean was straight to the point and firm. “Your money might not…” he tried to reason half heartedly.

“Leave it to me,” he interrupted again, pulling his coat on. “I’ll figure it out.” 

When Dean winked and turned to leave it triggering that fuzzy feeling on his skin he was still trying to get rid of everytime he did it. Which was a lot. The tingle of the man’s heat finally faded to make sure he felt it. 

Behind him the creaking of the stairs started fading out, and his muscles relaxed a little. Then the sound of the suitcase snapping shut allowed him to slump completely back against the sofa in defeat. He loved it and hated it being around him all the time.

“Bugger….” he mumbled to himself staring at the wooden ceiling, and out of nowhere a bowtruckle started crawling onto the back of his shirt collar. Sighing, remembering the comfort of Pickett’s neediness he picked the insistent creature up. 

“He is going to be the death of me before this is all over you know that?” he asked it. 

The small creature only reached out it’s thin arms towards him, wiggling and wanting no doubt to bury himself in the warmth of his pocket. Newt ran a finger over the leaf on its head thinking about putting the charm around their tree for the night again to keep the little things in their tree. Something he had taken to having to do once Pickett disappeared, and he had sworn himself to no more favorites. 

Dean at his side though, standing behind him watching, making good natured jokes or asking questions about the creatures had him missing the small things sometimes like a charm. He considered it absolutely embarrassing on his end, but feeling his eyes on the back of his neck recently took great focus to ignore. Especially since most of the time he didn’t want to. 

**XXXXXXXXX**

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Dean smiled widely, clapping him on the shoulder happily before kneading it lightly. Newt wondered if it was a subconscious move considering the eight seconds his hand lingered. Not that he was keeping track of the burning sensation under his shirt from his touch. 

“Man you know how to set it up,” he continued in approval, finally removing his hand to move around and admire the evergreen tree he had conjured. 

He had decorated it to typical standards, and there was not really anything fancy about it. There was the gold shimmering star on top like his parents had used. Silver and gold ornaments that bobbed up and down a bit as the tree slowly turned. A favorite addition from his time decorating at Hogwarts. Pinecones. Dusted snow….

“Just because I don’t celebrate doesn’t mean I don’t know how to decorate,” Newt said soft and simply. “I was always asked to help decorate the Great Hall. I’m pretty good at charms, and my charms professor enjoyed my company.”

Dean chuckled and opened the jug of alcohol he had gotten, and poured the amber liquid into a glass. “Doesn’t surprise me that they enjoyed your company, or that you’re good at charms,” he said. 

Newt took a deep breath and blushed trying to suppress the double meaning he was hearing in his head.

“Didn’t have much. No fucking beer in this tiny ass town. Only had whiskey, and turkey....” he complained before sounding more cheerful. “...but they did have apple pie.” Dean pointed down at the circled dessert with happily raising eyebrows. 

Newt opened and closed his mouth at the suggestive expression. “Apple pie?” he repeated making sure he had heard that correctly.

“Uh yea,” he said in a way that sounded much like disbelief, while cutting himself a slice. “Nothing is more traditional than apple pie.” 

Studying the dessert as Dean put it on one of the plates, he compared it to mince pies that would be in bakeries this time of year. It almost made him miss home. Almost. He did find it interesting the American was eating it before the vegetables and meat he had sat out. 

“Sorry I didn’t find you a present,” Dean said, sitting down taking a drink before digging into his dessert. “Not much around this place unless you wanted saddle and boot polish.” 

“I don’t need anything,” Newt reassured him before frowning. If he had thought to get him something surely he expected the same. Then again he hadn’t even considered celebrating. “What do you want? I’m sure I can create something.” 

Dean shook his head as he ate, and stabbed his pie for a bigger bite. “Just come eat, and have a drink before it gets even colder. I almost froze my balls off out there” he said. 

“I will just cast a warming charm and stasis over them,” he said quickly. The last thing he needed to think about was his bloody bollocks. 

The man chewed slower, and gave him a look he couldn’t quite read. Maybe it was disapproval? Analyzing? Or he was actually thinking about him doing it? He had already done it before. Whatever it was the bloke just gestured down to the other seat beside him on the small sofa with his head. 

“Get your ass over here,” he said simply, and Newt looked away enough to compose himself before doing as he said. Oftentimes when Dean told him to do something he was only reluctant to do, he still for some reason complied. 

“Prat…” he said under his breath softly before stuffing his mouth full of the rest of his pie as he sat down, and Newt snapped his head towards him to see Dean was trying not to laugh or smile while trying to chew. “What?” he asked innocently upon swallowing. 

Newt huffed with a small smile. “Cheeky arse bloke is what you are,” he replied. 

“Considering that’s what they call Harry Potter I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said approvingly. 

At the repeated reference Newt scanned his own knowledge once again. It was a name he had used a few times like he was supposed to know who it was, but still he hadn’t a clue. Then again it was basically a compliment considering he liked it when he acted like that. Something that was just part of his personality. 

Dean sat his empty plate down on the side table after a quiet minute of eating, and picked his glass up again for a drink. He took a long one, closing his eyes as if basking in the comfort. Apparently the bloke sensed his gaze because he tilted his head to the side enough to look at him.

“Drink?” he asked, offering it out to him. 

Newt glanced up and down from the liquid to the man’s green eyes. It caused his heart beat to pick up a little. He cursed himself for the response, and knowing he had licked his lips. 

“I…” he started, not actually knowing if he was going to be able to say anything. 

Then Dean tilted the glass back and forth temptingly with his forefinger and thumb. Without any real desire to protest, he took the glass from his hand, tossing the liquid down his throat. He had suddenly felt on the edge of his seat with nervous energy again, and maybe a little liquor would drown it. 

“Damn Newt. Didn’t take you for that kind of drinker,” Dean said, sounding surprised. 

Newt grimaced through the burn, shaking it off. “Me neither,” he managed not to cough, handing it back. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had any alcohol. 

Opening his eyes again he was met with Dean’s, and he tried to remember but failed. Then he tried debating if he needed more. Or even if he should take up the hobby of drinking as long as the American was around. He searched them momentarily for the correct answer. 

Only when Dean raised his strong brow high did he realize he was studying his features so openly. He was like some kind of bloody magnet that’s what he was. Newt bit his lips as punishment for getting lost in thought. Then even harder for getting caught. Usually he was good at not being seen admiring him. 

Still he didn’t look away from him. Everything from his chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, and broad shoulders to that half smile that would tug at his lips. Dean’s eyes started flickering over his own face. It felt like they were trying to drag him even closer like a veela with his laughs echoing in his head. Yes, he would definitely need more alcohol for the remainder of their time living together. 

Imagining weeks in the same state he felt now, drawn in open….temptingly. Without thinking about it anymore Newt followed the pull, and allowed himself to lean forward confidently. The strength of the sensation as his lungs filled with air, caused him to cup Dean’s face in his right hand to hold himself steady. It lacked the hesitation he thought he would have as he placed his lips on the other man’s. 

It was soft and intoxicating. More than that one drink could have provided. He enjoyed the warm air gathering between their faces as they breathed together. Enjoyed the deep inhale and exhale of heat for as long as he was allowed before he would probably get his arse kicked.

To his surprise though Dean didn’t push him away. He didn’t push him off or wipe his mouth in disgust. He didn’t shout at him like he had feared. No. Instead after a few seconds resting against an unmoving mouth, the man began returning his kiss. 

He shivered not from the cold lingering on Dean’s coat, but from the warmth of his hand moving to hold onto the back of his neck. It caused his own hand to drop away from the man’s perfectly structured face, to his toned chest. His body was built like a keeper’s ready to reach out, and catch any quaffle sent his way. 

Feeling the heat radiating from beneath his coat Newt’s hand gravitated toward it as their mouths moved together. Lips starting to slide with ease as their snogging deepened, and Dean held onto his neck harder. Pulling him in further allowing their tongues to finally meet. He wanted to feel more of him. All of him. Then his palm seeking the heat skated a nipple that caused the other man to break the kiss. 

“Fucking hell Newt….what are you doing?” Dean asked breathlessly, his eyes darting back and forth. He had pulled away enough to look at each other fully, but his hand stayed in place around his neck. 

Newt tried to laugh softly, and good naturedly, but it came out awkwardly feeling completely foolish for the move now that they had stopped. “I uh...I think it’s called snogging,” he said sheepishly looking away. His brain suddenly remembered how much testosterone the man oozed, and how he practically screamed heterosexual. He didn’t know what he was thinking to have done something so bold. 

“Snogging?” Dean repeated, encouraging him to turn his head back towards him with a twist of his wrist. He was met with one raised eyebrow and a small grin. A look that had him wanting to lean in again, but he stopped himself. 

“Ah….yes,” he said, savouring the strong sweet and sharp flavor on his tongue from the mixture of apples and whiskey Dean had consumed. He knew he was probably teasing him again, but maybe it was one he actually didn't know. This was one he definitely wanted to make sure he knew. “Kissing. Snogging is the equivalent of…” 

Dean’s lips landed on his again, and the unexpectedness caused him to moan shamefully. Apparently the bloke liked it though considering how he growled in response, snaking his hand up under his shirt, before abandoning his lips in favor of his jaw line. Newt took a deep breath trying to gather himself, and fresh oxygen despite the distraction of warm lips quickly traveling to below his ear. 

“Equivalent of that,” Newt said with a genuine laugh, and Dean chuckled into his skin.

He tried hard not to let his hands wonder again, but still one found its way into Dean’s short dark blond hair. It pulled him closer, encouraging him to suck on his neck as he exposed it completely for him. While he wasn’t a virgin he couldn’t say he had been all that adventurous in his life. There were only a handful of witches, and blokes he had ever been with. He tried to recall the moments with the blokes, but his mind was constantly being dragged along with Dean’s tongue that began tracing his Adam's apple. 

His cock began filling in his pants just from the mere idea of what could happen. Merlin knew he was far overdue for a wank. Not something he regularly engaged in, having no real previous interest or fantasies before Dean. Every time time the bloke took his one of the bloody shirts he had duplicated off in his visual range though, he had to clench his jaw to try to ignore the attraction. Only once had he risked the act when Dean went out for a walk, and that was only because he had come out of the shower in nothing but a towel. It had made him feel like a seventeen year old watching knickers drop before him for the first time again. 

“Oh…” Newt moaned tightly at the friction of Dean suddenly palming against the bulge that had grown in his trousers.

He wondered when he had taken it from under his shirt, but he was also sucking on his neck like he wanted to pull the life out of him. It was brilliant to know all the sexual, maybe even emotional, tension between them wasn’t something he had completely imagined. 

Dean’s mouth slowly moved back up to his, where they breathed each other in again, and the man began devouring him on a clearly new level of excitement. The intensity almost caused him to instinctively climb into the man’s lap. Then Dean was practically encouraging holding him closer, and closer, and…. Newt tried to take a deep breath of warm air to gather himself. 

“Do you want….” Dean started to ask in between kisses, but it was unnecessary and he didn’t let him finish. 

Newt didn’t need any actual question from him. He would give the same answer regardless of what the man wanted to ask. It was embarrassing how he didn’t even hesitate, and he wondered what was coming over him. With Tina, his last interest, he hadn’t been so on edge and eager. 

“Yes,” he answered softly, as Dean began playing with the button on his trousers.

Standing, starting to lose the reserve he had, Newt began loosening his own tie and the buttons of his shirt as Dean followed him continuing to play with his trousers until they were falling down his hips. The man began touching every part of him as it was revealed like he had been waiting for the chance, causing each place he touched to burn with desire. All while somehow managing to devoid his own clothing also as they continued to snog, granted it was sloppy. Each other’s hands helping the other push down pants and lift shirts. He loved it 

The second they were both naked, and he kicked his pants away, Dean grabbed him by the waist pulling him flush against his warm body. His jeans still sliding down scraped against his exposed thighs and knees. His rough attire fit him so perfectly. Fit the body it hid. 

Newt admired the tattoo on his chest, and debated asking about it even as his cock was being ground against by the other man’s. It was as hard as his own granted it felt so much more overpowering. Maybe because he wanted it, or Dean was just truly well endowed. 

“It’s Christmas eve,” Dean murmured into his cheek, as his large hands slid down his backside. 

“It...it is,” he confirmed, not sure the reason for the reminder, especially as his arse was being groped. He hardly cared what time or day it was. 

“Let’s do this right then,” Dean smirked looking over to the fireplace. 

Newt followed his gaze, then he realized what Dean meant as he encouraged him down onto the floor. Something so clique and romantic as shagging on the bloody rug in front of the hot flickering flames. He didn’t even need to be near it, he felt hot enough just being near Dean. 

“You’ve...been with blokes?” Newt asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, guessing from his response to what was happening. 

He was hesitant for the answer as Dean crawled over top of him, but the man responded first by wrapping his hand around his erection. Pumping him slowly with the perfect pressure, and grip that had his hips wanting to move up. Being touched so intimately by him…..

“A few,” Dean answered casually, dragging his thumb across his leaking slit.

For a second Newt couldn’t breathe, and all he could think to do was grab his wand up from the sofa. Blood rushing in his ears he gave it a few waves. It wasn’t like the other man was bound to have anything they needed, and if they were going to do anything more he wanted them to be safe. 

“What was that?” Dean asked curiously as he tossed his wand off to the side. 

“Cleaning, protection, and lubrication,” Newt told him, hoping he wasn’t blushing. 

Dean let go of his cock, and Newt spread his legs for him, predicting what he wanted. The bloke’s fingers dragged heavily, yet smoothly, through his crack and over his hole. It caused him to inhale sharply with anticipation even though he expected the action. 

“That sure makes things a hell of a lot easier,” Dean smiled, and Newt only managed to nod his head as he tried to hold back a smile or bear down shamelessly on his hand that was teasing his entrance. He chose instead to admire the glow of the fire reflecting off his hair making it appear blonder than it was.

“Why do you do that?” Dean asked, slipping a finger inside him. 

“Do what?” Newt replied not thinking past the intrusion as he adjusted to it.

“Try not to smile?” Dean clarified as he started moving it in and out of him.

“I…..” Newt started, but instead he stopped to bear down physically asking for another finger, desire over taking his thoughts. “I don’t know,” he answered with only half his mind processing anything other than the stretched feeling of a second digit joining the first. 

“Smile for me,” Dean said softly. 

Newt’s eyes blinked open, and he knew he turned scarlet still trying to hold it back. Instinct caused him to look away, but then he was forced to hiss and turn back as his left nipple was engulfed in wet heat. Dean pinched it roughly between his lips, and pulled the stiffened peak upwards as he shoved a third finger inside him all at the same time. 

“Bollocks! Bloody bollocks! Okay okay okay!” Newt mewled desperately, pushing at Dean’s head before it morphed into a short laugh. His cock jumped excitedly against the bloke’s torso with the fuzzy feelings it caused. 

“There we go,” Dean lifted up to say and smile down at him, before going back to soothe the dark pink numb gently with his tongue. 

Newt wasn’t able to stop his heart from fluttering like a love struck prat, and not just because he was beginning to feel overwhelmed with physical pleasure either. He wasn’t going to acknowledge the other reason as the man rolled his nipple around in his mouth, nipping at it playfully between his teeth again. All while his fingers began thrusting in and out of him more smoothly causing his cock to ache despite the beautiful stretching burn.

Anticipation, and the occasional brush against the bundle of nerves, had him starting to rock with the movement. Even when he tried not to also by holding onto Dean’s shoulders. He was unable to decide if he wanted to go slow or fast. Both had a wonderful appeal. 

Then Dean removed his hand from in-between them, causing him to whine subconsciously at the loss. He was satisfied a second later though when the bloke grabbed his cock again, and began stroking him with a new set of determination. Moving up to kiss him directly on the lips as he did so with complete and utter controlling confidence. Only one of the many things that made him want to melt for him. 

“It may have….may have been a while,” Newt admitted quietly, feeling the tip of Dean’s cock poking against his wet hole at the slight change in his position. 

The blood rushing through him had him wanting, opening and closing just waiting for him. Dean wasn’t small by any means. He was definitely thicker, and a bit longer than himself, and his own body structure was considered quite average. It made him feel like an over eager slag ready to take on something so big after so long. 

“So I can’t shag you into the floor like a wild animal?” Dean asked with a small chuckle, reaching between their bodies, and placing the head of his swollen cock directly against his arsehole. 

Newt let out a stuttered breath of excitement. It sounded absolutely fabulous, but he felt a bit apprehensive. No doubt the man could do exactly that. 

“Just....take it slow,” he half asked, half said, focusing on his tattoo again for something less intense to think about as he spread himself wider for better access. It only led to him wanting to feel up his chest again. 

When Dean pushed forward Newt gasped, his eyes flying up to the other man’s face as the thick swollen head of his cock popped past his rim and into his body. Thankfully Dean did just as he asked, and was slow, staying there a minute and letting him adjust. Yes he was definitely going to be the death of him, but it was going to be in the best way possible. 

Being physically connected it was like they didn’t even have to talk now. Inch by never ending inch, Newt slowly let him sink his thickness into his channel at a steady speed of an all consuming stretch that Dean picked out perfectly. Then once his unyielding length was completely buried in his arse Newt let out the deep breath he had been holding, and it came out as a jumbled noise of tearful pleasure. 

His cock leaked steadily as Dean placed lazy kisses on his forehead, and temples for some reason he didn’t know. Almost like praise for taking him so well, and Newt hated how again his heart leapt. The longer he did it, the longer they just stayed physically joined, the more he just wanted more. 

“I’m not a blushing virgin you know,” he said in a rush, his chest rising and falling as he clenched invitingly around Dean’s cock.

“You’re blushing alright,” Dean said smoothly, raking his face and tracing the corner of his mouth with his thumb, apparently unbothered by the feeling, “...and it’s fucking adorable you know.” 

Finally the man withdrew himself a little, and Newt licked his lower lip trying to close his mouth as he moved back into place. There was just so much feeling for him to absorb. He realized there was no way he was going last if they went slow. Absolutely no way with everything emotionally piled on top of the man’s cock that was practically splitting him open. It had him tapping Dean’s ribs repeatedly to get him moving so he wouldn’t come before they got started. 

“Come on,” he said, trying to appear composed and not out of character. Then again what was out of character when the bloke had hardly known him more than a month?

“I thought you wanted to go slow?” Dean asked. 

“A bloke can change his mind,” Newt replied in suspense, knowing exactly what he was getting himself into. If this was the only time he might be able to have the man, he wanted all of what he could give. 

“Maybe I want to go slow now,” Dean stated teasingly, rocking back and forth. Dragging his cock slow and heavily against his prostate. 

Newt closed his eyes, whimpering in his throat each time he repeated the action. It was delicious as much as his own cock hurt through it all. Maybe he would be content to go slow. Allow himself to be forced to come over and over again until he was nothing more than numb lost in an out of body experience. 

“Still want it harder?” Dean asked, his voice distance and silky. “You might not be able to walk after it. You’re just so….” Newt cherished the grounding feeling of the man’s hand rubbing his body, from his thigh to the top of his head as if he was trying to find the words for what he was. “...perfect.” he finally settled on quietly. 

Dean emphasized his point by almost completely withdrawing himself, and slamming back in causing him to mewl loudly from being taken completely by surprise. It was painful, but it was the best kind of it too. The kind that after a few more thrusts like that he would be graveling for more. 

“Bloody hell…..” Newt moaned pitifully, trying to keep his eyes open to enjoy the sight of Dean’s handsome chiseled face hovering above him. “I count on it.” His words caused Dean to drive himself back into the depth of his arse. It caused him to arch up, and grab onto the man’s lower arms. 

“Remember you said that,” the man said almost threateningly, although it was more of a promise the way his eyes twinkled mischievously. 

It caused the hair on his arms to stand up, and this time when Dean thrust back into him he didn’t stop to let him gather a breath afterwards. He didn’t stop at all, and started taking him just like he said he would. Shagging him into the floor like a lust driven wild animal. 

There was no stopping the oh’s that left him as Dean drove into him over and over again. They were all but forced out of him with the hard shove of his cock up his arse. He wanted to say it was wonderful. Beautiful. The word perfect rang through his mind again like it had so many times since he first laid eyes on the man. 

Just like Newt knew he would be he was already teetering on the edge. It was unavoidable with how long he had gone without shagging, how little he wanked, and how much he admired the bloke and found him attractive. He was completely defenseless against him now that he had let himself go. The echoing sound of Dean’s heavy bollocks smacking his arse with every thrust reminded him of that. His own tightening, and his stomach tensing feeling waves attempting to roll through him. Threatening to roll over and drown him. 

“Dean….Dean...Dean….” Newt whined, with what he hoped was a little dignity, trying to let him know how close he was. 

It was impossible to actually form a sentence though with his back being scratched against the rug, and never being able to gather more than half a second of air with Dean’s fast pace. Words weren’t worth interrupting the moment. The man got the message though, and grabbed a hold of his bouncing length that was all but demanding attention. 

Newt held onto Dean’s left hand that held him up off the floor, as he began fisting his cock with determination. Determination that was breaking him. It was all he could do to not just completely dissolve into the rug. 

There was the constant roughness of the man’s hand brushing the head of his cock as he tugged that was pulling him back from it though. The full feeling inside him that had the pressure building in his bollocks….All of it had him crying out as he started to come. 

More raw feeling and emotion left him in that moment than it had in ages. It was so intense that it felt like it would never end, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to. His nerve endings exploded with sparks he could see in his vision as he blinked rapidly through his orgasm. 

Then he didn’t have a choice as Dean let go of him. His cock still pulsing seed onto his stomach, and he missed the warmth of his hand around him. As if he had been waiting for him to come first, the man took on a more ruthless pace now that he had. Thrusting in and out of him selfishly with abandonment. 

The over stimulation of continuing to be shagged caused Newt to squirm finally, and when he did Dean placed his come coated hand on the ground firmly above his shoulder. Keeping him in place, causing him to bump into it over and over again as the man’s hips snapped against his arse roughly. Newt squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered continually at the overpowering move and pleasure. 

He could hear Dean’s breathing though. It was ragged as he panted up until his hips began moving frantically and uncontrolled. Newt dug his teeth into his own lip and forced his eyes open to watch him reach his peak. Their eyes locked until Dean let his head drop along with his jaw as he started to come.

Newt wanted to hold him. He wanted to let Dean lose himself completely in the bliss, like he had been able to. So he adjusted himself as much as he could, being held in place with a cock up his arse, and reached up to grasp the man’s strong neck and pull him down to him. 

Surprisingly Dean lowered himself to his elbows with little encouragement as he grunted out the remainder of his orgasm. The whole time staying buried to the hilt deep inside him with slowing shallow thrusts. Then the noise tampered off to just heavy breathing, and Newt wrapped his long arms around him pulling him flush. Wanting him to relax and bask in it. He always appeared to stay so strong, controlling, confident…. 

“God Newt….” Dean groaned, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

Dean’s light scruff tickled his collar bone causing Newt to smile as he took to rubbing his back. Closing his eyes again, he enjoyed the comfort of the warm heavy weight of the man resting on top of him. With them still tangled, and sticking, together he knew it wasn’t possible for there to be anything else like this feeling in his life. 

“This is my present,” Newt said softly unsure, and uncaring if Dean could even hear him. 

Newt sighed, accepting he would just have to enjoy the present as much as he could for as long as it lasted. He couldn’t let himself think too much about the future. Because no matter what happened, no one else could ever be the kind of man Dean was. 


End file.
